


Silence

by KaixChan



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Crack I guess?, Incest, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaixChan/pseuds/KaixChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>However, the numbers were silenced when Charlie feels something move, eyes widening as he places a hand on his stomach. The movement was there, stronger this time, and it causes blood to drain from his face. "What the hell?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't pay attention to tags, **this story contains Mpreg.** If that's a squick for you, I'd recommend clicking the back button and pretending you never stumbled upon this.
> 
> If you haven't been deterred, this work was inspired by Season 2 Episode 4 "Calculated Risk". Don hugging Daniel inspired so many father!Don feels for me, ugh. I figured I'd get it out by writing a random (cracky?) piece where he becomes one. And of course, with Eppescest being my OTP, the only way to have that happen was if Charlie gave him one. *v*
> 
> I might continue this; depends on my muse and if people would be interested in a verse like this to begin with. 
> 
> Commentary and feedback is appreciated.

Charlie wakes up to vicious nausea. He groans, rolling over and putting a pillow over his head. Maybe if he stays still, it'll pass, but seconds shift to minutes and he's quick to realize it won't go away. Pushing himself out of Don's bed, Charlie makes his way to the bathroom, barely making it before vomit builds in his throat. He retches up whatever was in his stomach and rests his head on the bathtub once it's over, willing for the horrendous stomach pains to go somewhere, anywhere, else.  
  
He contemplates calling his brother, asking him what the hell did you put in last night's supper, but he forces the temptation away. If it was something they ate, surely Don would be sick as well, and he was fine when he left the apartment. Condemning himself to staying near a garbage can or toilet all day, Charlie pushes himself up, wraps an arm around his stomach, and puts a garbage can next to the bed before promptly falling on it.   
  
Today was going to be a long one.  
  
-v-  
  
It was late when Don returns home. Charlie doesn't get up, the nausea having been progressively worse the more he moves. He got up twice the whole day, both times to empty the garbage, so he has no plans of moving, not even to greet his brother at the door. Charlie knows it'll raise red flags, but the nausea was so bad he doesn't care.  
  
"Charlie? You in here, buddy?" Don's voice comes from the hallway and Charlie hates the concern he hears tinging the edge of it. Despite that, he doesn't offer an answer besides groaning in agony. It was enough, as his elder brother comes in the room, all big eyes and worry. "Whoa. Are you okay, Chuck?"  
  
"Don't... call me that."  
  
Don grins. "Sorry, kid. Seriously, are you? You look like death warmed over."  
  
"I feel it," Charlie bemoans, the now familiar taste of vomit his one warning before he throws up. He hears Don shift to rest a hand on his shoulder, calloused fingers rubbing the muscle reassuringly, and it gives Charlie some shred of comfort. "You're not sick, are you?"  
  
"Nope. You must have caught some kind of stomach flu, Charlie," Don answers. His eyes take in his brother's appearance and he raises a perfect brow. "You've gained weight, it looks like."  
  
"You're calling me _fat_?" Charlie raises both eyebrows at himself; it was an innocent comment and he treated it like Don told him he has a terminal disease. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me."  
  
"Nah, it's fine. I'm guessing you aren't up for eating or... extracurricular activities, so why don't we sit on the couch and watch bad comedies?" Don suggests, offering his hand to his little brother. Charlie considers it for a moment, turning the idea over in his head, before nodding and taking the offered hand.   
  
"Sure, but you better keep garbage cans nearby lest I throw up on you."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause that's really romantic," Don mutters with a roll of his eyes. Charlie simply smiles and squeezes his brother's hand, grinning when Don's lips quirk upwards and his eyes crinkle at the sides.   
  
-v-  
  
A month later, the nausea subsides a bit, but the weight gain continues. Charlie narrows his eyes as he works an equation; there was no logical explanation for it and he was close to tearing out his hair trying to find out _why_. However, the numbers were silenced when Charlie feels something move, eyes widening as he places a hand on his stomach. The movement was there, stronger this time, and it causes blood to drain from his face. "What the hell?" he says to nothing, sinking down on the couch.   
  
"Charlie?"   
  
Charlie looks up, coming eye to eye with his father. "Oh, hey Dad," he says conversationally, ignoring the weird movements in his stomach and going back to the boards. He writes to show some shred of normalcy, but it's all gibberish, not that his Dad would know. "What's up?"  
  
"Nothing, just doing the laundry," Alan replies as he moves towards the washer and dryer.   
  
"I see," Charlie murmurs, scrubbing a hand over his face to look at the numbers he wrote on the chalkboard. Complete, utter gibberish. "Oh, uh, Dad, I have to go. I'm late for a... thing," he says lamely, hoping Alan didn't catch the hesitation in his voice.  
  
"Sure, sure. Go solve the mysteries of the world," Alan says with humor, waving his youngest son off.  
  
Charlie bolts outside, determined to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.  
  
-v-  
  
An ultrasound later, Charlie found out he was three months pregnant. He sinks down on Don's couch, wondering how in the world he was going to tell his brother, when the door opens and said brother appears in the doorway. "Hey, Charlie," Don greets him, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. He takes one look at his little brother's appearance before kneeling next to him and turning Charlie's head to look at him. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I..." Words die on his tongue and Charlie stays silent, closing his eyes so he doesn't have to look at the concern and worry building in Don's eyes.  
  
"C'mon, tell me. You're not... dying, are you?"  
  
"No. I'm..."  
  
"What?" Don coaxes, thumb stroking Charlie's cheek. "If you're not dying, it can't be too bad, right?"  
  
"I'm..." Charlie bites his lip and forces the word out. "Pregnant."  
  
There's no reaction from his brother for a few moments, but Charlie knows his words sank in when Don's eyes widen and his lips move to form words, but no words come. They sit in silence for a few minutes before Don speaks. "Pregnant? You're sure?"  
  
"Would I joke about something like this?" Charlie says in exasperation.  
  
"I'd hope you wouldn't have that kind of humor." The youngest Eppes can tell his brother tried for flippant, but he landed on more... something not flippant. "When did you find out?"  
  
"Today. I went to the doctor when I felt-..." Charlie pauses, feeling the same movement from earlier. "Here," he offers, grabbing Don's hand and placing it on his stomach. "Feel it?"  
  
Don tilts his head, looking confused for a few seconds before a smile settles on his features. "Yeah, yeah, I feel it," he murmurs, sounding amazed. "Our child, huh?"  
  
"Yep. Dad'll finally get his grandchild," Charlie says with forced humor. "What are we going to tell people? We certainly can't tell them the father is, well, you."   
  
"We'll think of something," Don replies, his fingers splaying out on Charlie's stomach. A soft expression is on his face as the movements increase in their frequency. "I never imagined being a parent," he murmurs, seemingly to himself, but Charlie catches every word.  
  
"Neither have I, but things happen," he says, resting his hand over Don's and another in his hair.   
  
His brother looks up, leaning forward to press a kiss against Charlie's forehead, then his mouth. "I love you, Charlie."  
  
"I love you too, Donnie."


End file.
